


Whose Was That Gentle Voice?

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:06:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Dark Lord turns against the followers he no longer trusts, the Malfoy family are the first in line. Fenrir gets a plaything and Draco waits for Harry to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whose Was That Gentle Voice?

The sun dipped below the trees, taking the warmth of the summer day with it. The air grew cold around them as they flew through the night sky while the stars shone above them and the moon cast a watery glow over the grounds of Hogwarts.

“Come on, Potter – it’s like you’re not even trying.”

“Shut it, Malfoy.” Harry’s voice was full of laughter and even in the cold, Draco felt warmth spread through his body. “You’re such a git.”

“Takes one to know one.” Draco felt a smile tug at his lips and he dipped his broom to the ground, pulling up and moving in lazy circles around Harry until the handles of their brooms touched.

“Have you ever been snogged in mid-air?”

Draco hadn’t and he shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips as Harry pulled him close. Draco felt Harry’s hand tangle into his hair and he murmured breathlessly against Harry’s lips. “Someone might see.”

“Fuck it. I don’t particularly care anymore.” Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s and he clung onto Harry, kissing him with all of the passion he could muster, dangling on his broom and feeling unsteady in the air for the first time since he had learned to fly.

“ _Harry._ ”

They kissed until their noses felt cold against one another’s cheeks and their bodies shivered under the sudden chill in the night air. Despite the cold, Draco was quiet sure he had never felt more warm.

~ 

Draco’s felt his body manoeuvred into position and his legs spread.

The _clink_ of chains on the floor settled into a steady rhythm, while his back scraped against the damp, rough stone. There would be blood. There was always blood, when Greyback wanted to play. There was no preparation, just spit and dirt from the floor.

Draco flicked his gaze away as he always did when Greyback came to him. The foul stench of rotting teeth made him recoil and he turned his head to the side, looking at the wall. Sometimes he counted the bricks when Greyback fucked him.

_One. Two. Three._

Harry. Harry. _Harry_.

“You never cry anymore, Malfoy. Why don’t you cry, when you know I like to taste your pretty little tears?” Draco felt the rough touch of Fenrir’s tongue on his cheek, licking a cold, wet, stripe as he panted above Draco, pressing his body harder into the floor. “It’s no fun for me if you don’t cry. I want to hear you _scream_.” With a rough laugh, Greyback scraped his nails over Draco’s limp cock, cutting into the sensitive flesh as Draco obliged him, crying out at the pain as his eyes filled with angry tears.

“I hate you.” Draco’s voice sounded small and hopeless in the dark room. He knew the worst was yet to come. This was the easy part in one way, in others it was the hardest part of all.

“Makes it more fun that way.” Greyback stopped in his movements and fisted a hand into Draco’s hair, yanking him up as he pulled out of Draco’s abused body. 

“Don’t…” Draco tried to pull back but Greyback had a firm hold and he pulled Draco’s hair hard enough to send a burning pain through Draco’s scalp.

“Open wide,” Greyback smiled. Draco complied because it was easier than the alternative and he dropped his eyes away from the gruesome, twisted grin which spread across Fenrir’s features. He felt the force of Greyback's prick push into his mouth and kept his lips closed around it, trying not to focus on the stale, unwashed flavour. He felt himself choke as Greyback thrust into the back of his throat, holding Draco down.

Draco closed his eyes against the tears which formed behind his eyelids. He felt bile rise in his throat and he struggled to breathe as Greyback’s cock hit the back of his throat repeatedly. Draco let himself drift as he sometimes did, to happier times and a place where things felt warm again. He focused on the only thing that kept him sane through all of this. 

_Harry._

“Do you think there’s any hope?” Draco had turned to Harry and nestled into the crook of his arm as Harry chuckled, his hand carding through Draco’s hair.

“There’s always hope. What do you think I fight for, if I don’t think we can win?”

“Because you’re disgustingly noble?” Draco had grinned against Harry’s chest and breathed in his scent. “You’re a Gryffindor, after all – I think you would still fight, even after all hope was gone.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Harry had turned to Draco and kissed him softly and Draco had been relieved he didn’t have to respond. He hadn’t wanted to say he wouldn’t be brave enough and be forced to meet Harry’s gaze until he felt utterly ashamed of himself.

“You remember this, boy?” 

The warm light of the Room of Requirement flickered and disappeared and instead of being wrapped in strong arms, Draco found himself back on the floor of his prison, kneeling on the ground which was damp with blood and semen from where Greyback had pulled back to finish himself off. 

Draco knew that would make things worse. Greyback didn’t like it when Draco wasn’t able to satisfy him. With a low moan of distress, Draco looked at the knife Greyback was holding in his hand and nodded, just once. 

_“You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"_

Draco remembered that, in the Astronomy Tower, as Dumbledore had eyed Greyback with disgust before he met his death. Draco flinched as Greyback trailed the blade along his cheek.

Greyback had told Draco once that he wanted to carve him up until there was nothing left of him. 

“I like the way your blood tastes – so lovely and _pure_.” Greyback let out a raspy laugh at his own joke and contemplated Draco. “I want to carve something on you.”

“No.” Draco pulled himself into a ball, but Fenrir was quicker than Draco and he kicked him, a hard boot to Draco’s crotch which made him cry out as his body shook under the attack.

“Spread yourself out for me.”

Draco kept his eye on the knife, his cheeks damp with hot tears and he decided to comply. He felt himself shake as he stretched out on the floor and waited for his punishment to begin.

“Cunt,” Fenrir growled. He trailed the tip of the blade from Draco’s collarbone, down to his limp cock and up again, this time letting it scratch the skin. “And he reckons a little slut like you is worthy of the Mark?” Greyback snorted and knelt next to Draco as he gripped his forearm. “We’ll see about that, blondie.” 

“What are you going to do?”

_Questions. Never ask questions._

Draco heard Harry’s voice, urgent and clear and he snapped his mouth shut. It didn’t matter because he couldn’t stop it.

“I’m going to get rid of your Mark. I don’t reckon you’re worthy of it. Filthy little blood traitor. Precious little Malfoy piece of arse. Fuck you, you little prick.” Fenrir’s smile was cold as he spat into Draco’s face. “I reckon listening to you scream might get me going again. I’m going to fuck you with my fist when this is over. Tear that tight hole of yours wide open.”

Draco kept quiet, despite the fact his body had started to tremble with fear. He looked away from Greyback as he felt the metal against his skin and closed his eyes again.

_Be brave for me._

Harry’s voice in Draco’s head was clear and strong and resonated, even when the screaming began.

~ 

Draco slept fitfully and heard the rustle of people coming in and out. He had learned it was best to pretend to be asleep at those times. His father had fought against imprisonment and as a consequence he hadn't lasted long when the Dark Lord’s trust in his closest confidants had faltered. For his father at least, the Killing Curse had been merciful.

Draco had watched his mother claw at the walls as the dark room turned green when they took his father. She had sobbed and screamed and begged for mercy and when she realised her husband wasn’t coming back she had _fought_ with every breath she had. Draco had watched as his mother would demand answers when the door opened and he would look away when they took her against her will in front of him, until she couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. 

He had learned not to ask any questions when he watched what happened to her.

Now his mother wasn’t with him anymore, Draco always pretended to be asleep. The sun never reached the cellars so one could never tell if it was day or night. Draco passed his hours in a haze of pain and disturbed sleep, filled with dreams which became nightmares so vivid he would cry himself back to waking.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, when he woke, he wasn’t alone. Draco took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness and he blinked at the form on the floor, close enough to touch.

“Harry?” Draco recognised the lean body - a little shorter than his own - the too-baggy jeans and the plain Muggle clothing. With a soft sound he moved closer, wondering if he was still dreaming, unable to believe that after all of this time, Harry was really here. 

With a sob, Draco pressed himself against Harry’s body, curling into it and shivering against him.

_“I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe. Don’t be frightened anymore.”_

They were back in the Room of Requirement and this was like any other night before Draco had been forced to leave school and go back to the Manor. Harry’s arms were wrapped tightly around Draco and they talked about a future. 

They would have a crup, they agreed. Just the one, and definitely no Hippogriffs because Draco still didn’t trust them. Harry had laughed at that and told Draco a secret.

They would sell the Manor of course and Grimmauld Place too, because nobody wanted to be reminded of the war. Plus they would be filthy rich from the proceeds alone and they could travel somewhere exotic with white sand, turquoise sea and cloudless skies. 

_“What have they done to you, love?”_

_“They raped me…I didn’t want it, Harry, I only ever wanted you.”_

_“Hush, I know. It’s okay, I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you now.”_

Harry didn’t turn around and he didn’t hold Draco close, as he used to on the nights that had begun to feel like nothing more than dreams.

And for the first time when Draco held him, Harry no longer felt warm. 

_~Fin~_


End file.
